


It is Better to Give

by Kitsune_Heart



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer
Genre: Blanket Permission, Christmas, F/F, F/M, Mistletoe, Podfic Welcome, Surprise Pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-13
Updated: 2012-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-03 13:52:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsune_Heart/pseuds/Kitsune_Heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh by gosh, by golly, it's time for mistletoe and Holly..." When Holly is standing at the exact wrong place at the exact wrong time, some...unorthodox methods may be needed to help her out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It is Better to Give

"Really, Mother, you could have just hired a company to do all of this, instead of running yourself ragged." Artemis looked at his busy mother with concern, trying to analyze her physiology for any signs of undue strain. Even years after her madness, he had worries that her weakened immune system would succumb to a sudden illness, and even deeper fears that it would be the madness taking her again. He was certain his good elf friend, Holly Short, would assist him in the latter case, but the damage it would imply within his mother's psyche was terrifying.

However, she showed no signs of stress, other than a furrow to her normally smooth brow and a little breathlessness as she descended the ladder, a hammer hanging from the hip on her jeans.

Carpenter pants. It looked...unnatural, on a Fowl. Especially when Butler was sitting not ten feet away on the living room couch, leafing through the latest issue of _Guns & Ammo_, quite tall enough to hammer in that nail above the door without even needing to step on the bottom rung. Or stretch his arms, for the matter.

Angeline, however, had insisted he remain seated, and only accepted a little help from her occasional assistant this night: Minerva Paradizo. Now that the task was done, the Frenchwoman let go of the ladder's legs, offering a hand to the descending matron, who took it graciously.

"I am not 'running myself ragged,' Arty," Angeline said, giving a nod of thanks to Minerva. "It's just a little dinner between close friends. And I'm not cooking, either. The catering company should be here any minute, and all I really need to do is finish the decorations." She reached up to pat her hair, which was falling out of its bun, and brooded over the mess. "Perhaps take a shower."

Artemis looked around the living room, his aesthetic sensibilities thoroughly violated. This was no "Winter Wonderland." It was a Yuletide slaughter. Fake snow covered every surface, and crystal snowflakes were invisibly affixed to the walls. A large, Punch-and-Judy-descended Santa doll stood in one corner, his painted, smiling face promising Artemis that he would be violating the boy in his Christmas Eve sleep (ho ho ho). Red and green fabric covered the chairs and couches, clashing horrifically. An enormous gingerbread castle overtook the antique wood coffee table, a little gingerbread man and woman sitting inside. Sitting in their house made of flesh. Eating...tiny...gingerbread men cookies.

Yes. In future, he would be hiring a company to do decorations. No matter what his mother said. His faith in her decorative skills needed to be reevaluated.

Minerva tucked a loose curl behind her ear as she looked at Artemis, biting her lower lip, but addressing the boy's mother. "It looks marvelous, Angeline," she supported, earning a little squeeze on the shoulder.

Artemis eventually nodded, feeling no pang of guilt over the shared lie. He was thankful to Minerva for her conspiring. And...a little flattered over the flirtations. No one had ever flirted with him before.

...well, at least he _thought_ no one had. He recalled something about flyboys, and was momentarily uncertain.

Angeline looked in her almost-empty box of holiday decorations, humming a jaunty jazz mix of "Good King Wenceslas." Mid- _glissando_ , she stopped and huffed. "That's right...I left it in some water...I'll be right back, everyone." She turned to her son and gave him a very stern look. "Be good, Artemis."

Minerva giggled and Butler shook his head, shoulders shaking slightly.

"No worries. I will." Artemis looked again at the demon Santa. He knew when he was sleeping...

Starting up the song again in the bar right before her aborted embellishment, Angeline practically danced down the halls of Fowl Manor in search of her errant decoration.

When his mother was out of sight and sound, Artemis let out a huge sigh of relief. "You may unshield, Holly."

Butler's body seemed to unwind completely as he let the magazine fall, revealing a rapidly clarifying haze. "Mind if we find somewhere better to hide you next time, Captain?" His voice was rather high, for the big man. Holding a buzzing fairy had been...disconcerting.

"Great idea," Holly said, crawling out of Butler's lap and sliding to the floor. "If I'd known your mother was going to be about, I would have suggested we meet on the grounds."

"That would not have been viable," Artemis said. "Mother has been making me help all week. I have barely been given a moment to think!" This was said quite literally. Since his return from Hybras, the mastermind's time had been filled up with talking to his family, dodging news agencies, dealing with the police, seeing a half-dozen psychiatrists (each one now retired to fish, golf, or rock back-and-forth while trying to bite their own ears in a padded cell), and become reintegrated to society. Then there was the side-effects of the magic to consider; he had been plagued by nausea and sibilant, chanting voices since his first night home, with no clues in the Book to help him manage, beyond obeying the rules of the _geis_. And that was not really an option for the semi-reformed criminal.

Now, here he was, still occupied with his mother's chores, entertaining one of the early-arrived guests, and trying to find a moment to go off with Holly and get an update on the demon integration, with the hopes of eking out some clue to help with the magical complications. And...he had become distracted with these musings, and the captain was saying something as his mind wandered off. Something sarcastic, as could be expected.

"Surely tinseling that _thing_ wasn't too mentally taxing, Artemis," Holly snapped peevishly, pointing at the _thing_.

Artemis flinched. "It is...one tree, Holly." He looked over at the pine tree sitting merrily in the corner of the living room, each branch suffused in tinsel and lights, a Swarovski-made star gracing the top. Discrete spotlights had been installed about the room, their beams directed on the crystal, making it glimmer and throw fantastic rainbows across the walls. It looked magnificent.

"You humans kill it, and then dress it up like some...some...drag queen!" Holly turned her glare on Butler, who lowered his head in shame. "Isn't defiling a corpse taboo among Mud Men? Or are you truly savages?"

"Holly," Artemis tried to sooth, taking a step towards the fuming fairy. "Normally we have a fake tree, I swear, but this was for a good cause. An environmental group is buying up failing farms and selling the non-native trees to raise money for purchasing former rain forest land and saplings to regrow the natural habitat of the farms themselves, once they are harvested. It will _help_ the environment."

"So you _kill_ a tree in order to make up for the thousands of other trees you have _already_ killed?"

Artemis winced. He felt as if he had been personally accused of arboreal slaughter. "I know, it's an odd arrangement, but the program is very successful, so far. They have raised the funds to protect 10,000 acres—"

" _Stop_ ," Holly commanded, holding up a hand. "Just...I don't want to hear it. I'll be waiting in the security room to speak with you, alright?" Turning, she weaved around the ladder and towards the door.

Before she got far at all, an approaching singing voice from the other hallway made Holly gasp and wheel back about, clutching her LEP helmet tight to her stomach. "D'arvit!" She whispered.

"Shield!" Artemis urged unnecessarily, as his friend was already fading from view, leaving nothing but a slight haze from her Recon suit.

Angeline waltzed into the room and stopped in her tracks as Artemis called out "Mother!" He was far too enthusiastic.

Minerva faked a yawn so she could cover her smiling face. She had thought this boy was a good actor...a wonder what a few women can do to discompose even a genius.

Mrs. Fowl studied her son for a moment. "Artemis, are you feeling well? Your face is all red."

"I am quite healthy, Mother," Artemis replied formally. "I believe it was that...eggnog you had me taste." His eyes darted to Minerva at the mention of the beverage. This entire evening felt so embarrassingly _cliché,_ and he loathed the idea that she was witnessing all the overdone rituals _._ "It was perhaps a bit too strong on the spirits."

Minerva laughed softly, having accepted a mug from Mr. Fowl on arrival, in order to stave off the winter chill. It had been terribly weak. Weren't the Irish supposed to have a tolerance for alcohol? Not that she had any illusions that the drink was the reason her companion flushed. His reaction was more...psychological than biological.

"Well...then don't drink too much with dinner, Arty," Angeline said, opening up the hand towel she had brought with, taking out a green sprig with milky white berries, decorated with a red and gold ribbon. "I want you to enjoy yourself tonight, dear. Without having your first hangover in the morning." Climbing the ladder, she slipped a hidden loop onto the nail, climbing back down to observe her work. "Perfect," she cheered, focusing down the hall. "A lovely tradition. No one is allowed to walk under this door without being kissed!"

Now it was Minerva who blushed, eyes darting to Artemis. The decorations had gone a bit tacky, but the traditions were... _fascinant._

Angeline picked up her nearly empty box of decorations, addressing her son's bodyguard. "Butler, would you be a dear and put the ladder away?"

While he had no true fears about the Frenchwoman, Butler still eyed Minerva, assessing her chances of being an assassin in disguise. He was about to refuse when Angeline caught his eye, winking. Looking back at Minerva, he grinned. That Mrs. Fowl was on the ball with at least one of the geniuses. If things went well and the blond beauty could make the right moves, that little sprig up above the door would be broken in very, _very_ soon.

Gathering up the ladder, Butler followed Angeline out, passing on the matron's wink to her son, whose eyes went wide, darting to Minerva when he finally understood. He licked his lips before looking away again, coughing into his hand.

When the sounds of adults had faded down the halls, Artemis turned to the shimmering figure in the room. "It is safe to go, Holly. I shall join you soon." His convoluted brain raced as he imagined what might transpire between this moment and that upcoming meeting. How to describe this feeling in his stomach...butterflies with wings dusted in lead, tiny fragments falling constantly, weighing him down even as he soared.

The elf came back into view in pieces, the first being her wide, terrified eyes. "I _can't_ ," she hissed, fists clenching, legs flexing like an alerted stallion, ready to bolt.

Artemis looked down at her, blank. "Can't? I assure you, Captain, it is a very secure room. None of the catering staff or guests will discover you."

"No," Holly whispered, as if there were enemies hidden in the room, rather than simply her longtime human friend and the tentative female ally. "I...I can't move."

Minerva, who had been lost in her immediate plans, finally broke free from daydreams and studied Holly. "You can't move? Have you had some sort of stroke or seizure?"

"No," Holly grumbled, lifting one leg and trying to swing it back, then forward, unable to move it any way but up and down or sideways. "I...it's the _geis_."

Minerva had to delve into her lexical reserves for that word, and it made her frown to be forced to struggle with language. "An...obligation, yes? Obliged to what?"

Artemis seemed also momentarily stumped. Then he groaned, pinching the sides of his nose, right at the corners of his eyes. "The Rule of Dwelling. Mother...she was facing the door when she explained the mistletoe...and you were looking right at her, weren't you, Holly?"

"I was afraid she was going to see me!" Holly protested, crushing her helmet tighter to her stomach. "Take it down, hurry! I don't want to be caught in this doorway when some waiter bumbles by! Gods, just my luck, I'll get covered in gaudy hors d'oeuvres, have to kiss the server, and give away the People all at the same time!"

At the idea of his friend having to smooch the waitsaff, Artemis quickly grabbed a nearby chair, pulling the heavy wood and silk thing towards the door. "The hors d'oeuvres will not be gaudy, Holly. Simple _foie gras_ on cracked wheat crackers, wild salmon puffs, butternut squash ravioli, and—"

"Whatever, Artemis," Holly interrupted. "Just take that stuff down, will you?" She paused, then stuck out her tongue. " _Foie gras_...barbarians."

Sniffing indignantly at the interruption, Artemis said, "Yes, Captain," in a thoroughly sarcastic manner. Reaching out, he grabbed the mistletoe.

Blue electricity arched off the berries and straight into Artemis's fingernails, leaving tiny black burns in the crescent where nail met flesh. Yelping, Artemis pulled back, stepping off the chair so fast that Minerva rushed forward to support his back and keep him from toppling over and braining himself on the gingerbread monolith.

Shaking his hand and glaring up at the door frame, Artemis said, "What in the world was that? Did mother hit a power line?" It made no sense, even as he said it. The nail was in the frame of the door itself, not the drywall above.

Holly looked up at the mistletoe and groaned. "Oh...gods, no. Please."

"What?" Minerva said. When she realized that she still had her hands on Artemis's back, she took them away, trying to focus solely on Holly, to avoid too much notice of the extended touch. She need not have worried much, as Artemis was also focusing on the elf.

"Angeline is the woman of the house," Holly pointed out. "Which means, according to the _geis_ , she has more power than the heir. Artemis can't overturn his mother's commands. D'arvit, I told the council in my testimony that Nº1 should remove the Rule of Dwelling immediately!"

Artemis nodded, filing this fact away. If he ever needed to outsmart the People again, it would be wise to not depend upon orders and prohibitions. Tonight, however, the _geis_ still applied, and it seemed to be working against him. "Very well, then. If I can't free you, then you will simply..."

Minerva had long ago reached her conclusion, and she enjoyed the look on Artemis's face as he reached his.

"You..." Artemis trailed off, becoming momentarily lost in the universe of his mind. He finally managed to shake head head and break free, again coughing into his hand. "You will simply need to kiss someone." He paused. Then nodded determinedly. He began to step towards the doorway.

Holly looked up, mouth opening in a silent scream.

"Just for a moment," Artemis went on, shrugging casually. "Only as long as it takes to break the _geis_. I imagine just a half-second, at most." He was almost in the doorway, now. Another two steps, and he would be brought into the magic of the People, bound to release his friend with a simple touch of lips. It was his duty, after all, to free the damsel in distress.

"A-Artemis, wait, I'll call in Chix from E1. He can do it, he'd _love_ to do it, you don't have to—"

"That will take far too long, Holly," Artemis interrupted ruthlessly. "The other guests will be here soon." Step. One away. He could feel his lips tingling, heart racing, knees weakening. She had flown in just minutes ago and, though he knew the idea was absurd, Artemis thought her lips would taste of the wind.

"Artemis, wait, let's be reasonable about—"

"Oh, _merde,_ you morons," Minerva grumbled. Stepping forward, she grabbed Artemis's collar, pulling him back from the brink, earning an instant grateful look from the prone Holly.

Then the Frenchwoman went down to her knees, digging a hand into the molten lava explosion of Holly's hair, leaning forward and pulling until their lips crushed together.

Both had their eyes open during the entire five seconds their mouths tasted each other. Despite the difference in age, background, size, and appearance, their expressions were identical. Stupefied.

Gasping as she pulled away, Holly shoved Minerva's shoulders, making the blond girl fall back to the floor at the same time as the fairy snapped out her wings, instantly abuzz and holding her in the air several feet down the hall. She raised a hand to her lips, face reddening spectacularly, eyes turning for only a moment to Artemis.

His eyes shone. Not with tears. Or at least not tears of sorrow. He smiled. Very, very widely.

Without a word, Holly flashed down the hall, turning the first corner she came across, even though it would not bring her directly to the security room. She just needed to get out of sight, before anyone got the bright idea to give her another order.

Groaning a little at her rough fall, Minerva stood, brushing at the back of her little black dress, removing stray bits of tinsel. "Stupid, prudish Irishman, not going for the simple solution, I don't know _what_ is wrong with you..." She continued to mutter all the way out of the living room, heading for Mrs. Fowl's Christmas base of operations. She needed to be with more mature company.

Artemis watched her go, his lips still tingling from the lost opportunity. He had no doubt Holly would be wearing her helmet the entire time they talked. It was such a shame. He wouldn't force her back into the same situation; it would be entirely perverse. Yet...the _geis_ had such possibilities. It would be a pity to see it go.

Although...it was entirely worth it, for that... _spectacular_ sight. Artemis was certain that, should he have taken the opportunity and released Holly, she would have been furious with him for months, if not his entire lifetime. This way...he could recall those five seconds with no fear. Whenever he wanted. In detail. And perhaps add some details of his own.

Artemis smiled. He suddenly found himself entirely in the holiday spirit. Ho ho ho.


End file.
